Four years (and) running.

20 October 2009

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

At the very last minute before handing in my final draft, Father inserted this quote at the very beginning of my valedictory speech. It was a concoction of words, wound together by the invisible strings of childhood memories and experiences, all of which had to be carefully restructured by the cumbersome hands of my parents and teachers, alluding to the idea that perhaps I – even though I was the (allegedly) smartest kid in the cohort – was too young to understand what the hell Lao Tzu really meant. Well, I didn’t even know who the hell that guy was.

My childhood memories have slowly disintegrated away to the most unreachable corners of my mind, but somehow, I have managed to hold on to this particular fragment of the past, embedding it on my life like a hammered piece of nail on a white, empty wall of cement. The resulting crevasses, fissures on the wall, those little distortions circulating the nail, stagnant and permanent in the immaculate sea of white, hid beneath the overhanging framed picture of a twelve year-old boy with a sun-lit smile tightly sewn from ear to ear.

Four years have passed and I have already hung so many pictures on this wall. The collection has kept on growing and growing and growing. Whenever I felt that I had to keep a memory or two, I would take a nail and a piece of string and hang them, keeping them alive with the stillness and tangibleness of these photographs. Looking back at them once in a while, I can’t help but realize how much time has already gone by; how many things have changed; how much experience I’ve gained; how far I have journeyed on my own. I also can’t help but realize how much of my life has been kept beneath these photographs: the sadness, the sorrows, the pain, the secrets, the bad experiences of the past, all trapped within the crevasses of my existence, cunningly transcended by my extroverted attitude and almost unearthly happy disposition as flatly seen by a typical outsider.

Well, it’s overwhelming. It’s a continual bombardment of the past, the present, and the prospects of the near and distant futures. Leaving home at the age of fifteen, facing the trials and obstacles of the unforgiving world without the physical protection of the hands that I once deemed cumbersome, encountering the kinds of people that I’ve never imagined I would actually meet, opening my eyes to the reality that life is not as clear-cut as black and white, questioning the validity of truth and the meaning of physical and supernatural existence, having to shave every three or four days for a nice and clean face, I must say that I have already traveled a long, long, long way.

It doesn’t sound like I’m happy, but don’t get wrong. I am happy. I really am. Seriously, I’m not kidding. LOL. I’m extremely thankful for everything; for my family and friends; for the awesome education that I’ve received over the years; for that person that I was, that I’ve become, that I still am.

It’s already been four years running, and I am still having the time of my life.

The contract is going to end soon, but life doesn’t just end there. There’s still a lot more ahead. There’s still a lot more things to do. And there’s still a long, long, long way to go.

A journey of a thousand miles,

of a million kilometres,

of a billion light years,

of eternity,

begins with a single step

and a simple smile that says,

LG, life’s good. ;D

Happy 4th anniversary.

I <3 my bike.

SIX brave young men, SIX bicycles, SEVENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND AND SEVEN HUNDRED EIGHTY metres (78.78 kilometres), in EIGHT hours and FORTY-EIGHT minutes.

ONE minor injury, NO casualty, and NO damaged bikes

********

There is no good thing about me being the most indecisive human being that ever walked on Earth.

But the good thing is, whenever I submit myself to peer pressure, I always end up having a good time. HAHAHA

So! What happened was that Nalaka, Niko, Savy, Weijie, Yin To, and I went cycling around Singapore.

We just finished our mock exams last week and this week is a holiday so we decided to.. you know.. release all the stress we’ve accumulated over the two-week exam period.

We, like, literally, cycled around the whole island:

We started off at ECP. Rented six bikes for $12 for the whole, with no overnight charge! How cool is that?

Anyway, here’s a chronological order of our journey in the form of photographs:

Trust me, cycling for 78.78km in not-so-good bicycles with not-so-good bicycle seats is not a good idea if you’re not willing to bear the excruciating pain on your ass, balls (for guys), legs, knees, and back. And cycling using the the most difficult gear was a bit of an… unplanned and unwanted suicide attempt. Like teenage pregnancy. My leg muscles were crying with so much lactic acid, so much that I felt my leg muscles were being dissolved into fragments of organic molecules.

Jurong Point, gas stations, convenience stores, MRT Stations, and other sources of heavenly toilet urinals and refreshments were green-less oases erected across the unforgiving cemented desert. We had to stop here and there to take a leak or to refuel ourselves. Our frequent stopovers made me come into a realization that our bicycles were amazingly strong and sturdy and amazingly difficult to ride on (no pun intended).. and our bodies, although as agile as the wind, are as fragile as toilet paper.

It was also a good moment to explore Singapore. I mean, I’ve been around Singapore for the past four years, but I was always travelling behind the smudged windows of the bus or the MRT, sitting down on a more-or-less more comfortable seat, listening to my MP3 player. but this time it was different. No smudged windows; just my spectacles smudged by condensing water vapour. No aircon; just the cool breeze of wind coming from the miniature Singapore rainforests. No comfy seats; just that small piece of rubber seat squeezing my balls who are carrying the brunt of my weight. And no MP3 music; just the noise of people, cars, buses, trains, trucks, traffic signals, birds, dogs, rain, the sound dissipated by the breaks, the rustling of leaves, the splashing of water, the trickling of rain, the breaking of twigs lying on the ground, the heavy breathing, and many other random things.

There were exhilarating moments, such as the downhill slopes along Mandai Avenue. It was like an amazing roller coaster ride, the only difference being the leaves and twigs and soft tree branches hitting your face, splashing cool mountain (or hill) dew on my face as I passed by them, and since I was excruciatingly tired and exhausted and perspiring excessively – but still gasping for a little bit of cooling, hydrating water on my skin – the violent whips of green flora became so refreshing to the point that it felt orgasmic, giving me an unimaginable tingling sensation rushing throughout my whole body.  There were also times where we felt like lying down in the middle of the road, where we felt like we died as we cycled against gravity (especially along Mandai Road), but we kept on cycling and cycling and cycling.. and well… guess what? we eventually spanned 78.78 kilometres of Singapore soil (mostly cement). Actually, it kinda reminded me of Forrest Gump!

“Run, Forrest, Run!!!”

This was like…

“Cycle, Rowland, Cycle!!!”

And trust me too, it was (AWESOME FUN)^infinity.

And a very important moral lesson: Do not wear boxers when cycling.

One degree of separation.

I have been contemplating on the idea of… accepting my close friend’s mum’s facebook invitation.

My initial reaction: o.O

Haha. She’s like a family friend, so yeah, I wouldn’t want her to be gossiping about my facebook activities to my parents.

Maybe I shouldn’t accept the invitation. I’ve already ignored hundreds of facebook invitations anyway. Yes, I’m EVIL.

****

Anyway, it’s funny how small the world is.

Today was the Assisi Hospice Charity Fun Day, and guess what. I just met a gazillion faces who all looked familiar in one way or another, like I’ve seen them before, I just couldn’t remember where or when or how or on what occasion – they all just looked so damn familiar.

And it’s funny how you can’t seem to find those people whom you know more than your chemistry textbook and those people whom you would want to know more about, since you find them more interesting than gossiping about students and writing ToK essays and doing Physics homework.

*******

Sometimes you do get the most unexpected and random questions at the most unusual times of the day.

Ricky asked me, “So where do you intend to go after this?”

“House?” I replied.

He was referring to my impending post-IB life.

I started blabbering about me not minding spending another 4-8 years in Singapore studying in a university… but not interested in settling down in this little island… talking about applying for a PR status (but of course I would never do so)… etc. etc.

But I still don’t know where I’m actually going.

Maybe I’ll end up studying in DLSU.

Who knows.

Or maybe I’ll end up staying here because of …

NEVER MIND (:

*******

Happy Labor Day.

Three years. and counting.

I have long surrendered myself to the fact that my memory sucks big time; that the only things I can remember in life are those things that I find absolutely necessary for school examinations; and that memories that are worth to be cherished could simply just disappear like a piss on the roadside – it evaporates like water into the atmosphere, but leaves a mark and a smell just strong enough for me to trace out its mere presence.

It didn’t even occur to me that today actually marks my third year of existence in Singapore until my friend sent me a message. As far as I could remember, I was crusing 30000 feet above the earth inside Singapore Airlines with four other Filipino students I have never met before, and then after three hours I found myself stepping into a new country. The day before that, I could remember my mother wailing and crying outside the airport as if she was going to lose me forever. It was also the first time EVER that I saw my dad shed some tears. My brothers were still young at that time, so probably they did not really have a bit of inkling how that separation meant for mum, dad, and I.

It was hard to adapt. I was so young, and I was already living on my own. I gained freedom and power over myself, but I lost the comfort of home and the company of my loved ones. It was a lopsided trade-off that I had to bear. I had to wash and iron my own clothes. I had to wake up to the tintinnabulating cries of my alarm clock. I had to eat boarding school food. I had to do my own grocery. I had to travel on my own. It felt as if the whole world turned upside down.

My secondary three and four years were a cornucopia of horrible, wonderful, and memorable events. It was such a perfect blend of emotions and experiences and a homogenized mixture of happiness and sadness that I can’t really say if there were moments were I felt only one of the two at a specific day. I went to an exciting school filled with students filled with so much enthusiasm, team spirit, joy and happines. Yet I never actually remembered myself in that institution feeling the same way as my classmates and schoolmates. The school has this culture that has the power to make those who want to be cherished feel truly cherished, but I was wondering why I did not feel that way at all. It was a good two years, just that it wasn’t exactly as memorable as I hoped it would be. But like what I said, those two years were a perfect blend of emotions and experiences. I stayed at a ramshackle boarding school that in itself, is a useless, lifeless concrete structure standing atop of a small hill, a building that exudes an aura of despondency and disconsolation to anyone who observes its lonely majesty over the horizon. Nevertheless, it was a place that was filled with the most exciting and interesting people I have met in my life. From a distance, it was an amazing sight to see these people gathered together, interacting with each other, eating together at the dining table, sharing unified and opposite views. From a distance, in the eyes of a local student, most of them were simply geeks and nerds, people who didn’t have a life aside from studying from dusk till dawn. As a living testimony, living with them has proven this conception to be a misconception. Each of them was such an interesting human being in his or her own way that made the boarding school such a colourful place to live in. Some of them were indeed geeks and nerds, but they weren’t just simply geeks and nerds. They were unique and interesting. I don’t know. I just felt very exuberant and jolly and satisfied at the company of my hostel mates. And that has made my two years worth remembering.

And now, I’m on my third year, and life in Singapore has gotten better. I guess my mum was always right. It takes time for anything to settle down. Well, I knew it would take time to settle down, but I never expected that it would take me only until now to keep myself calm amidst the unrelenting storms in life. Life in my new school is so much better. I have finally felt a sense of belongingness and pride within my new school. There are so much more privileges in my new scholarship that sometimes taking a time off from my studies to do less sensible stuff makes me feel awkward and guilty. School has been so much stressful and fun at the same time. Boarding school life has lost a little bit of euphoria since i’m now living in a condominium and I have less companions in the house. Well, I believe everything has to be balanced out. And God does it really fairly.

I’ve been wondering if these three years were worth it. It always comes into my mind the fact that if I didn’t leave the Philippines at all, I would have been in my second year in university by now, and in no time would be graduating and getting a decent job and earning a decent pay to repay my mum and dad who have almost immolated themselves just to raise up my brothers and I.

I hope these years have beeen worth the time and money sacrificed. Because I’m not like many young people in this country who are so much blessed in life that they need not to worry much about what lies ahead in the future. Though I am one of those I would considered privileged to savour much more of any successes they achieve in life, because for them, reaping the fruits of success would mean the whole world for the people whom they love.

Happy three years, Rowland.

********

I can’t possibly post every single picture I have, but, oh well, here goes some of them.

 

Oh yeah, and this may be of interest to you:

Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are.  Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart.  Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow.  Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so.  One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.  ~Mary Jean Iron